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Posted by seahunt on November 16, 2000 at 12:50:24:

'R, yer a blighted wind that's a blo'n this a way. Ye found me haunts
wher I a rant and a rave to vent me spleen when there n be n' grog.
'R, I'l show yer wha ta do wi' yer lead blower. At da watrline er
in yer gizzard. It's all tha same ta me. Best ya sav yer lead fer da
local warden. He seen that Barge out thar. It's dat rusty bucket that
wallers outa here ever night trailin empty beer cans an chewed up
pieces of wetsuit. I canna believe that that crusty slut is still
floatin when ya come in towed by yer zodiac an hootin an hollerin
all night. But, boy ya can sure smell ya comin by, Hoo, Boy! If
Moby Dick was to chomp ya, I tell ya, He'd heave the rail.
Ya's so stinky the fish an game guys passed out when day come
to leeward to board them. Ya, Right there on de deck. But it donna
bother yous pirates. Ya got it all figgerd out. Ya see, How can
they count yer catch when ya donna throw any of da old ones
Just don't tell 'em the truth, seahunt

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